huge. It looks like an entire length of a football field, with blood-red columns running parallel to the black walls. The floor is a muted gray, polished until it looks like it could double as a mirror. I’m suddenly very glad that my dress trails long enough past my feet that no one will be able to see up the skirt.
Imps seem to be everywhere, all of them dressed in matching red leather clothes marking them as the servants. They’re carrying trays of food and glasses filled with drinks, and I make a note not to drink anything in case it’s the nasty ass demon spirits that the guys were always downing.
That simple memory sends a knife to my heart. The way that the four of them sat with me in the demon bar, drinking from their cups, and the feel of Iceman’s hand on my back as he escorted me away. I remember their glares on me when they thought I was checking out Flint as he played music. That was the first time all four of them reacted in a way that resembled jealousy.
I know Echo and Crux were interested in me—that much was clear based on the flirting and with what happened on my couch that night, but Iceman and Jerif took me off guard in the best way. That’s probably why I had that sex dream later. My mind had perked right up, thinking of all kinds of naughty possibilities. Possibilities that I’ll never get to test out.
I force myself to swallow back the forlorn emotions, my eyes falling onto Tazreel where he’s standing in the middle of the room. He’s with a group of seven other Abdicated. I can tell that’s what they are, not just because of the fact that they all have wings at their backs, but because they are ethereally beautiful, just like my supposed demonic father.
Aside from Tazreel, there are four males and three females, and they seem to be deep in discussion. Whatever they’re saying is making Tazreel scowl, while some of the others laugh.
Aside from the eight of them, there are other demons here, too. Only some of them have wings, but all of them are gorgeous. They must belong to the menageries. It would explain why all of them are dressed so skimpily.
They’re all dancing at the back of the room beside the musicians, lilting, wordless songs setting the tone as their bodies gyrate to the melody. Some dance together sensually, while others stay apart, like they’re trying to gain the attention of the Abdicated, who are paying them no mind.
Yeah, fuck that. I’m not going to be in anyone’s menagerie and begging for scraps of attention.
I turn back to the group of demonic angels in the center of the massive room. I’m surprised that there aren’t more of them. I’m not religious—and I’m assuming religion in the Mortal Realm got it right—but I thought a lot more angels fell with Lucifer than this.
I’m escorted to the group slowly, and I do my best to put my I got this face on. One night cavorting with the hosts of Hell. I can handle this, right? After all, I was born for this shit...and that’s not just a saying in this case.
“Ah, there she is,” Tazreel shouts out, his eyes skimming over me and filling with approval.
I hope he tips Lousen for doing such a great job, because that whole pinned like a moth thing is scary enough as a visual.
All at once, eight pairs of breathtaking eyes turn to me. I have to actively remind myself to breathe as the beauty in front of me drinks me in and relishes me like I’m a twelve course meal.
“Her coloring is stunning, Taz,” a female comments, whose hair, skin, wings, and eyes are all different shades of red. Even her cheeks and chest have a natural rosy blush to them. It makes her look sensual, like her skin is flushed from hours of sex. She pulls off the lustful look though, because her black lace dress is nearly see-through and completely daring. Slits go up either side all the way to her hips, and the front of her dress plunges down to her belly button. I was feeling good about my rack before, but hers is ten times better. I notice that I’m staring at her perky, huge boobs, because her lips curl up and she draws a finger down between her cleavage. “You want to touch them?”
I nearly swallow